Mark Pryor - Cyberian Affair

“We have a dark roast. What size do you want?” She pointed to a choice of cups on display.

Niko read the label on the big cup, “Venti.”

While waiting, he eyed a small table in the corner away from other customers. When she brought his coffee, he took it to a seat at the table and sat with his back to the wall.

Niko set his go bag on the floor between his chair and the wall. He removed the laptop and mouse from their case, setting them on the table. He thought about plugging it in, but the wall plug was too far away, and his battery was fully charged.

The warmth of the coffee cup was welcome, and he held it with both hands. The first sip started to take the chill from his body. He set the cup down and opened his laptop—one Marko had hardened against attack. This computer would not be an easy target for anyone trying to penetrate its defenses, or to identify the owner.

Usually, Niko used an encrypted connection to a private network in Ashburn, but tonight he chose a network in Los Angeles. That would make it even more difficult for anyone who tried to identify or track him.

He took another sip of coffee and searched for information on Marko. Despite using his best computer skills, none of the emergency alert systems or local hospital systems gave up any confidential information. Too bad he wasn’t a super-hacker. Vyper would know how to find out, but Niko didn’t know how to contact the computer wizard. The only alternative was to call each hospital in the area and pretend to be a relative. That would take a while, and he didn’t want to attract unwelcome attention from Starbucks’ patrons.

Niko needed a safe place to stay tonight. He’d have to find a hotel. One that accepted cash. More important was the emergency number. Marko told him to use it. He could call from here, but he’d have to be careful about what he said.

He grabbed his phone and punched in the number.

An eerie voice answered, “Hello.” It sounded like it was electronically altered.

Niko took a breath. “I’m calling from Provo.”

“Provo?… Give me a few minutes. Don’t hang up. I will be back.”

Someone’s scrambling their voice. Why?

Niko looked around. No one seemed to have any interest in him. Three minutes passed with no noise on the other end. He checked to see if the call was still active. It was.

The strange voice returned. “Sorry for the wait. Please hold a bit longer.” The phone went silent again.

Marko had told him to call this number, so the person on the other end must be someone he could trust. Niko hated sitting there and waiting. Maybe I should have mentioned The Pythia .

A sudden response from the same unnatural, mechanical voice on the phone startled him. “You do not have a camera. I cannot see you.”

Camera? This person hacked into my phone? Niko wanted to hang up. No. Marko trusts this person . “I’m using a flip phone. No camera. What—”

“No problem. You are in Starbucks. Look up at the man in front of you. The one holding a cell aimed in your direction.”

What ? How ? Two tables away, a man was totally absorbed with something on his phone. Maybe the guy was texting or playing a game. The back of his phone pointed toward Niko. Shit ! Was he using it for surveillance? This didn’t make sense.

Before he could say anything, the mechanical voice continued. “Good. I needed to see your face.”

“Is that man working with you?”

“Certainly not. I just used his phone.”

Niko knew how to hack computers—not phones. This mysterious voice must belong to someone who could hack both. Despite his technical curiosity, he had to focus on priorities. It was getting late, and he had to find somewhere to hide and sleep tonight. “I need—”

“No explanations yet. Tell me who you are.”

“Niko… I mean The Pythia .”

“ Pythia ?… Certainly. Wait there. Someone will come for you immediately.” The phone went dead.

From his seat at the back of Starbucks, Niko peered through the windows at the well-lit shopping plaza. No sign of the Russians.

So far, so good—gotta leave soon.

While waiting for a ride from his mysterious contact, he tried to focus on another hacking trick—attempting to break into the emergency dispatch system. He needed to know how Marko was doing.

EMTs got there fast. He’ll be okay .

He started uploading a file to gain root access to the system when his burner phone rang. Only one person should know this number—the one Niko called half an hour earlier. Even so, he answered cautiously. “Hello?”

A female voice responded. “I am calling from Provo. Who are you?”

Provo. Marko’s contact . “The Pythia. Are you—”

His phone chirped.

“No conversation. I just sent you a code. Enter it into the form.”

Niko looked at the screen. An unfamiliar program appeared with a highlighted text box. He copied the code from the message and pasted it into the box. “Is this for encryption?”

“Quiet. Give me a minute.”

Damn . The Russians were looking for him, and this woman wanted him to wait. Who is she ? Her voice was flat and emotionless.

She spoke once more. “We are secure. Take everything you have. Walk out the front door. Turn right. Get in the passenger side of the dark green Ford Taurus.”

“Who—” The call ended. Niko shook his head. Gotta trust her, whoever the hell she is. No other options. He stuffed the laptop in its case and grabbed his bag.

Outside, he spotted the Taurus in a dimly lit section of the parking lot. When he opened the door, no light illuminated the inside of the car. A woman, probably in her early twenties, nodded from behind the wheel. Her dark, shoulder-length hair was either curly or dirty, maybe both. A gray, loose-fitting sweat suit hid her shape.

Tires squealed from the far side of the parking lot where Niko left his car. A quick glance revealed headlights racing toward them. Russians !

“Get in, now!” the woman insisted.

He jumped into the Taurus, slammed the door behind him, and threw the bag and laptop case onto the seat. “We’re dead if they catch us.”

The mystery woman hit the gas, turned the Taurus away from their pursuer, and sped toward the shopping center exit.

Niko looked back. It was the familiar dark BMW. Cars parked in the Starbucks lot blocked its way, so the Russians had to drive around them.

Without a word, Niko’s driver took a sharp right turn onto the highway, darting into the left lane. Horns blared in protest. The tires of the Russians’ vehicle squealed as it slid around the end of a row of cars.

The woman pointed to the glove compartment. “Inside. Get the laser.”

Laser ? He opened the compartment and grabbed a silver cylinder. It looked like a light saber. He waved it toward the driver. “This it?”

“Stop!” She switched lanes, cutting off the car on her right, and raced forward. “Be careful with the beam. Open your window. Point it outside. Activate it with the button.”

Niko pointed it at a billboard, and a blue dot appeared. “I got it.” He glanced back at the headlights switching lanes in pursuit. “What do I do now?”

“When I tell you, aim at the driver’s window. Move the dot around until the driver reacts.”

The Russians passed the last car separating them, closing the gap.

“Now!” demanded the woman.

He leaned out his window and pointed the laser where the driver’s head should be. He moved the laser up a bit, then down, then left. The BMW fishtailed. Niko did his best to keep the laser pointing at the same spot while the Taurus followed the highway as it entered a wide curve.